Broken

I’m so sad I’m afraid my broken heart will fail. And to know you’ll find another girl- makes me want to be impaled. I can’t believe I lost you again… Poet, you have to stop, talking to myself…

You can’t continue to think about this

Or you will drown in your own tears.

What’s the answer? Where’s the relief?

There is no recourse for grief.

Daily Prompt: Sting

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Photo by Deviantart.net (chicoboto.jpg)

These broken wings smartly sting but if you listen closely they also sing

Songs of sadness, songs of loss, songs that prevent me from paying the cost

It must be paid! Wisdom cries out, searching for someone to take the blame.

But I have suffered, I’ve been alone. What more do you want- to share in my shame?

via Daily Prompt: Sting

Ramblings of the Lost

At this moment I feel as if I’m being catapulted through a long, dark subway tunnel except I’m not on a subway car.  Strange, because, I’ve never even seen a subway. I am on my own again.

There’s this invisible force pushing my body and at the same time pulling me away from everything familiar. Am I destined to be alone for the rest of my life? What’s my next step?

I thought my job was going to be working at being a better wife and friend. Apparently, that’s not going to happen. I’m tired of being rejected. Going around the same mountain is completely pointless so why am I doing it? This brings me to the most basic question.

What is left to live for?

Inner Monologue

Why am I not good enough? I don’t understand. Except, there’s this. I’m not thin. I’m not smart. I don’t reach for your hand. I stare at your mouth and then look away- remembering every day. I’m a stupid bitch and a selfish little thing. I can’t please you, why do I try? Everything I say and do you say you see the truth. My reality is different and I think you know the rouse. No matter though, this whole languid Greek tragedy is over.

Out the Window

I’m looking for myself today because I’m all alone* I glance out the window and think of my former home *Where have I gone, What have I done, I bend down and pick up a stone*He’s rejected me again, I’m pulling out my hair, will I ever learn? *The rain begins to fall and tempers start to flare*The sound of anger in his voice and his callous stare just breaks my heart and brings me tears*I’m looking for myself today, as he decided not to love me, and is no longer here.

Lost Daisy

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I am somewhere else not where I am lost in this daisy atmosphere going up, up, up

I was in a good place the other day but now I’m drifting away- too far, too much

As if there were no gravity to hold my soul in place and it hurts as it’s being torn out

The bpd is getting the best of me driving people I love away- even after he took me back

What kind of a fool am I that my mind torments me so as indelicacy grips my ribs and won’t let go

Will I survive another day to endure more of myself or at least what is left of this mad hat sanity

I am somewhere else not where I am and lost in this daisy atmosphere.

Freed

Have you looked back on an older poem you wrote and said, “What does this even mean?” That was me today. Lol.

Katestrawberry

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He chopped at the log with the fury of a Greek God
The foggy mountain top he raised his head to gaze
Armed sufficiently when insincerity and indecency collide
His flaming head now full of dread and thinking that he’s dead
Damning thoughts they disappear the ax he swings relieved
Fully consumed with gratitude she lays him-freed, in the ground.

 

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Don’t read this!

Katestrawberry

Yes, my poems seem dark and dreary. One time I tried a happy verse but it didn’t seem to work.  The clouds blocked the sun, the earth began to shake.The time and space continuum collided and NASA locked me up. Then, the CIA got involved and called me a national threat. They flagged my email, spied on my journal and called the President. All the Heads of State met deciding what to do. They put me in orange, cuffed my hands and threw me in Gitmo. So, I no longer write the happy verse and have begun to curse. You should hear the words that came out-even the terrorists became afraid-and ran from this little blonde girl.

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Cause and Effect

 

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Photo Credit: http://m.blog.daum.net/_blog/_m/articleView.do?blogid=03X1h&articleno=15222229

Blending memories with the weighted glare of her disconcerted eyes, I wonder…

Was it my fault he left her for another woman as he gripped her son good-bye?

The drama builds in my terminally odd mind filled with casual complacency

From the ledge I look up at the lucky stars and feel regret rain down from the sky

When suddenly I turn around, it’s her.

As I tumble to my death, I let out a helpless cry.